The Royal Selection: 21 Years Later
by xShatteredAngelxx
Summary: Two decades have passed since America won the crown and married Prince Maxon. Now it's time for their oldest son, Varen, to go through the Selection and find his true love. However, it won't be easy since Prince Varen has the same stubborn mind as his mother. With the rebels becoming more violent, this year's Selection will be the most drama-filled one yet. Rating may change. SYOC
1. Prologue

**This SYOC will be centered 21 years after the Selection series by Kiera Cass. America won the crown and married Prince Maxon. They lived happily and had three children together. Once their oldest son reached the age of nineteen, it was time to go through another Selection where 35 girls would have to compete for the crown and win the Prince's heart. This is Prince Varen's story, as well as all of your SYOC's. I'll only be accepting 25 girls because I don't feel like writing about 35 girls all together. The other ten will be insignificant and will just be there for the beginning of the chapters until they get eliminated. Both of Maxon's parents are still alive and will be in the story. Also the rebels will make regular appearances just to add some drama to the story. The form is on my profile so have fun submitting! All forms must be submitted through PM.**

**These are the ages of the Schreave family:**

**Maxon-40**

**America-38**

**Varen-19**

**Clara-17**

**Bryce-8**

**And finally, here is the prologue!:**

* * *

Queen America sat on one of the couches of the living room while she braided her daughter, Clara's hair. Clara looked remarkably like her mother, with fair skin and long fiery red hair. However, she inherited her father's gentle personality.

"I'm so excited," She sighed, thinking about the Selection that was due to happen in little over a week.

"I'm glad you're excited, sweetheart. I just wish your brother would share the same enthusiasm as you," Queen America playfully teased, glancing at Prince Varen who was casually sitting on a chair across the room.

He was tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair, staring at particularly nothing as his father paced across the room. He sighed and sat back against the chair, raising an amused eyebrow at his nervous father. His father always seemed to get nervous fairly easily. He always told stories about him being extremely nervous at his Selection, as well as after him and his mother got married. Especially when his mother got pregnant with him. They would always joke about how his father was a nervous wreck when his mother was giving birth to him.

"Varen never gets excited about anything," Clara rolled her eyes, before giving her brother a small smirk.

"Yes, Clara. I'm giddy with joy over the fact that I'll have thirty-five girls swooning over me in a matter of days. Unless all the screaming causes me to go deaf," Varen scoffed.

Although he had inherited most of his looks from his father, Varen had inherited his fiery temper and stubborn personality from his mother. He wasn't one to follow orders, only to do what he liked. Despite this however, he also had a kind heart like his mother. He always felt like he had to take care of the family whenever his father was away on business.

King Maxon stopped pacing and stood in front of Varen in a very serious manner. "Now, Varen. As much as this may not please you, the Selection is essential for every Prince to find himself a wife so he may one day rule over Illea."

"I know." Varen gave an impassive reply, staring at his father with a lazy gaze.

"Now, come. We must get ready for the interview. Today is the day where you'll get to see all the pictures of the Selected young ladies." Maxon gave his son a warm smile, before fixing his tie.

"I need to get Bryce ready," America sighed as she got up from the couch. "Where did he run off to this time?"

Bryce was the youngest of the family. He always seemed to run off and find something to play with. His childish curiosity always seemed to get him into trouble. He inherited a little of each of his parents looks, since he had light brown hair but his mother's features.

"Not to worry, dear." Maxon gave America a small kiss on her forehead. "He's probably outside playing somewhere.

America smiled at her husband, getting used him calling her "dear" over the years. "He is so like his Uncle Gerad when he was little,"

"I'll go look for him," Clara gave a light chuckle and gracefully left the room with her blue dress trailing after her.

America gave a small nod towards Clara before looking at her oldest son. Maxon inhaled and turned his attention towards Varen, before smiling at him and stretching his hand out towards the door.

"Ready, son?"

Varen fixed the tie on his shirt one more time before nodding.

"Ready as I'll ever be."


	2. The Little Bird of the Rebels

**This chapter is quite dark, and the prologue for the much drama that there is to come. The reason why Zale hates Varen and America so much will be explained later in the story, also his true identity will be revealed later as well. Tell me what you guys think of it so far. Leave some reviews! Many thanks to PandorasBox12 for his awesome OC, Alexandra.**

* * *

Muffled cries of pain and groans could be heard from inside a dark room, towards far south of the palace, where the very heart of the kingdom's chaos brewed.

A man sat tied to a chair, with very visible bruises across his face and bleeding cracked lips. The only light in the room was a dim lamp.

"Please, sir. I didn't-"

The man was interrupted by another punch being blown to his face. Three other interrogators stood in front of him, as another more dominant figure stood in the dark corner of the room, carefully watching with a sinister gaze.

"I couldn't get the files from the King's desk on time! The guards would've noticed me there!" The man hurriedly tried to finish his sentence before one of the interrogators smacked him again.

The man sitting in the corner of the room silently stepped away from the wall, a masquerade mask hiding his face and his identity.

"I specifically asked to do one thing, and you failed to do so. Tell me why I shouldn't have you killed right now?" The man drawled.

As the interrogators approached the man on the chair, he nervously winced. "Because I found out another bit of information that might interest you even more than the files!" He quickly blurted.

The masquerade man held out a hand to stop the interrogators from proceeding. He averted his intrigued gaze over to the man tied to the chair. "Go on," He spoke.

"The Selection is starting in a little over a week," The man explained before letting out a few raspy coughs.

The masquerade man's frown instantly disappeared and formed a sly smirk. "This is interesting news, indeed…" He raised an eyebrow. "Imagine all the chaos we could cause to disrupt the Prince from getting a wife."

"We could keep him from getting the crown!" The man in the chair exclaimed.

The masquerade man gave out an exasperated sigh and turned his attention to one of his rebel guards that was standing watch beside the door. "Bring our little spy," He ordered. "I have an assignment for her."

The rebel guard quickly dipped his head. "Yes, sir." He complied before leaving the room.

"What spy?" One of the interrogators raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you'll see." The masquerade man gave out a menacing smile.

"Can I go now?" The bloodied man sitting on the chair sheepishly asked. A few of the interrogators gave him dirty looks, but the masquerade man gave him a slow nod.

"You gave me useful information, so you may go. Untie him." He ordered.

One of the interrogators untied the rope from his hands and stepped away from the chair, allowing the man to thank the leader and slowly limp away from the dark room while leaving a small trail of blood behind him.

Once the man left, the masquerade man turned to one of his interrogators. "Keep an eye on him," He spoke.

The interrogator gave him a small nod.

As soon as the doors opened, the rebel guard brought in a young girl, maybe around the age of eighteen, into the room. She had an innocent expression on her face, but one could easily tell that she did have a determination to her and was easily capable of doing cunning things.

"Hello, Alexandra.." The masquerade man silently greeted.

She quickly dipped her head in respect. "Hello, leader."

"Please, call me Zale." The man gave her a smirk. "Now, I have an assignment for you. The Selection is starting in a few days. And since you are of age to be a candidate for this, I want you to enter the Selection in hopes that you will be among the Selected." He explained.

"Why would you want me to enter?" Alexandra silently spoke, seemingly puzzled.

"So you can get close to the Prince, of course. Find out the Royal Family's deepest secrets, do some snooping around. Maybe even win his heart so you can earn his trust. Make sure to be extra careful, the palace is heavily guarded and no doubt you will earn yourself a few suspicions. No matter which direction you proceed with this, I want you to earn their trust so you can wait until the proper moment to kill them. It's the only way to get rid of these damned castes. Kill the Royal family and the castes will be eliminated. That's what you want, that's what we all want. The sole purpose for the rebels is so eliminate the Royal family."

Alexandra seemed to be awed by his sense of strategy, and to many people seemed to have appear a little skeptical at first, but then she brushed it off and quickly agreed. She wanted nothing more than to eliminate the caste system. She hated the way how the lower castes were treated, living as a servant for her horrid foster father in Caste 2 was enough. "I'll do it." She agreed.

"I want to ask one more thing from you, however." Zale dropped his content expression, his gaze instantly clouding over in a stormy hatred glint.

"Anything." Alexandra blinked.

"Kill the Royal family except for the Prince and the Queen. They're mine to kill. I've waited so long to stab Prince Varen in the heart, along with his bitch of a mother, the Queen. It's their fault my father is dead." Zale clenched his teeth in anger, before keeping his shaking fists against his side.

"And besides, Varen owes me a rematch. It's been two years, too long." Zale narrowed his eyes as he grabbed the small dagger hidden in his pocket. He kept his gaze on his reflection caused by the metal of the dagger, before gently running his fingertips across the blade.

Zale suddenly smiled and glanced up at Alexandra with a calm expression on his face. "Go now, my little bird."

She placed a hood back over her head and was escorted back outside by one of the rebel guards.

She stepped outside into the cold, dark night. Avoiding the rain that fell down from the stormy clouds, she made her way back to her dreaded foster father's house, where she would proceed to sign up for the Selection the next morning.

She felt determined, yet she felt a tinge of nervousness at the same time. She quickly tried to brush the nervousness away, seeing that she couldn't fail the Southern Rebels. She didn't always particularly agree with their violence, but she knew she was doing this for a good cause.

To get rid of the caste system once and for all.


End file.
